


how is it, the sea?

by hyaci



Category: Disney Fairies
Genre: F/F, Fairy Dust Alchemy, rarepair short!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:21:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26519674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyaci/pseuds/hyaci
Summary: “How is it?” asked a voice from afar, in the dark of the valley.“How’s what?” Zarina asked in turn.“The sea,” she heard, soon after she had begun to let her focus wander to the glitter of the moon against the waves at the riverside quite nearby. “And the farthest shore, and everything betwixt and between.”
Relationships: Lyria/Zarina
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	how is it, the sea?

**Author's Note:**

> one indulgent, impulsive work that slots itself at the very beginning of my equally indulgent, impulsive lyrina (lyria/zarina) voyage AU quite prettily. please enjoy, and thank you so much to kiara for opening my eyes to the incredible potential of this ship!!!

“How is it?” asked a voice from afar, in the dark of the valley.

Zarina, who had been just nearing midway on her final light-talent duties of the night under the crisp white glow of moonlight, turned toward the source of the sound — a vague guess of her mystery partner’s location, toward the dim underside of cherry blossom trees from where a fairy with such a short, simple question seem to glow, faint behind translucent pink petals, with unfleeting curiosity.

“How’s what?” Zarina asked in turn, taking only the shortest of pauses before continuing; “and I would like to see you, please.”

She lifted her hands, glowing with the final remains of yellow pixie dust, before gently dusting off the excess on her skirt.

“I’m no Light fairy by nature, you know — my senses aren’t so attuned to the moonlight as theirs.”

It seemed, for a sad moment, that her only reply would be the soft whistle of the evening breeze past her ears. Her eyes, as keen as she could hope them to be, stayed precisely trained on the fluttering of golden wings behind the gentle pink foliage across the valley, radiant where inky night was beginning to fall.

“The sea,” Zarina heard, soon after she had begun to let her focus wander to the glitter of the moon against the waves at the riverside quite nearby. She had nearly missed the elaboration, the other fairy’s words soft and low where the same melodic voice had sounded quite so brave just earlier. Zarina wondered, briefly, if she was scaring the other; if having her undivided attention now was jarring the other party into a new, uncertain quiet. It sounded nearly as if her words, if spoken to a less attentive fairy, could have simply bounced off her person and been picked up like dandelion puffs in the wind.

Zarina waited, still, for the fairy to reveal herself, peek even for the shortest second out from under her tree. 

But then, speaking up again, her mystery partner returned with an afterthought of a continuation, with a touch more sureness, “And the farthest shore, and everything betwixt and between.”

And again, confidence seeming to rise with every new breath, “Zarina.”

The sound of her name, in that kind cadence, so striking, so wondrous, pulled from Zarina a soft gasp at the sheer wonder behind the other’s voice.

“It’s Zarina, isn’t it?”

“You know my name?” she wondered aloud, putting a certain end to the curious silence she had been prolonging on her end — an instinctive, blushing reaction to hearing her name spoken so marvellously into the dark of night.

“Who wouldn’t,” spoke the other, almost admiring, “after your accomplishments?”

Zarina willed away a beaming, aching grin from surfacing past the smallest of smiles, and thanked the night, silently, for shrouding the way her expression must have practically  _ shone _ .

“Who are you?” she asked instead, after composing herself just enough to promise her delight would not seep so thick into her tone. “I’m thoroughly flattered, by the way,” she added on, hopeful that this time it may succeed to coax her partner out of hiding.

“Lyria,” said the fairy, said  _ Lyria _ , her voice rising with an uncertain emotion. Zarina wished, not for the first time but certainly with great regret once more, that she had spent more time to pick up the cues in one’s voice; that she were more naturally perceptive when it came to those little fluctuations in tone.

Maybe it would have saved her a good deal of heartache when she had chosen to so wholly trust James. And maybe, now, it would have made it easier to understand why Lyria hesitated to stay only for a moment more, before hurrying to fly off under the cover of night, only a shimmering dust trail left in her wake; and Zarina, taken aback by Lyria’s urgent rush, hadn’t yet even begun to tell her tales out at sea, the highs and lows of the thrilling journey it had been first setting bitter sail on her lonesome from Pixie Hollow and then returning home and embraced and loved, the next year.

The sound of waves against the riverbank seemed to be her only company, then — with their quiet pull back, crescendoing into a lullaby crash against the shore, receding again to restart from the beginning.

Once more, Zarina turned to the brilliant rays of the moon — to its backdrop, jet black, and its captivating array of stars, twinkling like diamonds in a painting sky.

_ Lyria _ was her name. Zarina would have to keep it quite close in mind, and a considerable deal closer to her heart.


End file.
